


all to myself

by greeny1710



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Honestly Daniel makes an appearance for like 3 seconds, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Roscoe is the true star of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeny1710/pseuds/greeny1710
Summary: after the Silverstone double header, Max just wants to spend time at home with the two people he loves more than anything.well, one's a dog but it still counts
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Max Verstappen
Comments: 22
Kudos: 111





	all to myself

**Author's Note:**

> based on a prompt from **Tumblr anon** who said _: Could u do max/Lewis? I really think they would get along btw ur work is amazing_ and I happily obliged. Ngl this was kinda hard for some reason but like ??? enjoy I guess lmao we love trying new things

“Are you heading back to Monaco tonight?” Daniel asked, nudging Max’s shoulder as he passed him coming out of the hotel.

“Hm? Oh, no. Factory work, so just going closer to there,” he smiled. “You?”

“Renault tried to get me to stay but I was like nah, adiós señores see you in España, so I’m heading across to Monaco.”

“Sorry that I can’t give you a lift this time.”

“You break my heart, Maxy. I’m going to have to fly _commercial_.”

“Oh god forbid,” Max laughed, clapping hands with Daniel and pulling him into a quick hug. Both of them knew they weren’t supposed to, however they had one collective brain cell between them sometimes and Max would just make sure to clean himself before he got into his car. 

He carried antiseptic wipes with him everywhere purely for this reason.

“I’ll catch up with you in Spain?” Max asked.

“Sure, catch you later, Maxy Moo. Enjoy your factory work.”

Max nodded and started heading to his car, throwing his bag in the backseat before wiping his hands down and tying them into a bag to dispose of in a couple days.

He was used to the UK’s lockdown restrictions at this point, he knew what he was meant to be doing.

The drive wasn’t long, only around half an hour and Max had seriously never been more grateful. English roads were a fucking ball ache to drive on with the amount of potholes and slow as fuck drivers that he had to contest with. 

He even got stuck behind a fucking learner driver, which Max couldn’t feel _too_ much animosity towards, we all had to learn somehow, but he was jittery. He wanted out of the car and into the house. 

And he wanted a fucking shower. 

Finding the right key on his keychain was a fucking mess and a half. 

It was made even worse by the fact that Max _knew_ he was probably watching and laughing at Max trying four different keys before realising the first key was in fact the right one, he was just turning it the wrong way.

“Please tell me you have the alcohol!” Max yelled through the house, dumping his bag by the front door as he locked the door behind him and toed his shoes off. 

He didn’t get a reply and so Max wandered through to the kitchen, searching for his man. 

“Lew? Where are you?” Max shouted again. 

He knew Lewis was at home. Roscoe’s food bowl had not long been used and Lewis’ car keys were on the side. 

The question was, where the fuck was he?

“Lewis!” Max tried again.

Rolling his eyes, Max walked back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

“Lewis!”

He heard the sound of thundering footsteps and Max automatically knelt down a couple of steps before the top.

“Hey buddy,” Max grinned as Roscoe got close to the top, leaning in and stroking the dog’s fat rolls and letting him lick the underside of Max’s jaw. 

When he’d first got together with Lewis, getting used to the smell of Roscoe’s breath when he’d not long eaten was definitely the hardest adjustment. Now, he loved the little buddy more than anything and he’d forever let that dog lick him to death with kisses. 

“Where’s your Daddy, hmm? Where’s he hiding from me?”

Roscoe grumbled and turned back in search of Lewis. Max pushed himself back up, his knees protesting angrily at how achy they felt from the race and followed after the dog. 

“Lew? Are you-”

Max felt his heart stop when he walked into their bedroom and found Lewis sitting on the bed, a smile softly working its way onto his face. 

“Hey you. There’s my little race winner,” Lewis grinned and he stood up. “Thought you deserved a treat.”

“I’m still taller than you,” Max cheekily replied as he walked into Lewis’ open arms. 

“Yeah yeah yeah, everyone’s taller than me-”

“Except Valtteri.”

“Except Valtteri. Is Lando?”

Max thought about it for a moment before shrugging.

“I have no idea, maybe. Don’t really wanna talk about Lando right now.”

“What do you want to do then?”

Max didn’t bother replying, instead he cupped Lewis’ jaw and leant in to brush their lips together. 

“That,” Max whispered, sharing the breath between their lips.

Lewis smiled back and pressed their lips together harder, kissing Max with so much pride, happiness, contentment.

“I’m so proud of you,” Lewis whispered, “Even if you did take my home race win.”

“I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now, we spend half our time here, does that not make me an honorary Brit?”

“Not until you learn to drink tea, you heathen.”

“But hot drinks are nasty,” Max whined.

“You’re such a whiny little brat.”

“I hate tea so much why do I have to drink it?”

Lewis laughed softly and tightened his grip on Max’s hips, “No one’s forcing you to drink it. I’m telling you if you want to be a real Brit to justify stealing my home GP wins, you’ve got to drink it. No one is making you, love. You just have to give up on winning Silverstone, okay?”

“Why bother with tea when you can just have a Red Bull?”

“Funny how you claim to love Red Bull so much when I saw you sneaking my Monster out of the fridge yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t?”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t!”

Lewis picked his phone up and scrolled, smirking when he pulled up a photo of Max and Roscoe laying on the sofa together. Roscoe was laying between Max’s stretched out legs with his head resting on Max’s hip and Max was holding a can of monster loosely between his fingers as he stroked Roscoe’s head. Lewis had clearly snuck the photo when Max hadn’t realised he was up yet, catching him completely off guard.

“I was going to try and justify my own behaviour but I have no explanation,” Max shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face.

“You just want some better energy drinks. That’s fine. Maybe if George wasn’t joining Mercedes next year we could’ve got you alongside me.”

“We all know that wouldn’t have worked out. It’s better that we’re on separate teams,” Max reminded him, huddling into Lewis a little bit and hugging him tight.

Mixing business and pleasure didn’t end well.

And Lewis wasn’t something that Max was willing to lose. 

“I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t want you by my side. Gives me an excuse to hug you for longer than .3 of a second when we’re on the podium together,” Lewis whispered, kissing the side of Max’s neck.

“Maybe one day you can, but right now I’m loving getting to keep you to myself.”

“I’ll always keep you to myself. I dread to know what Seb’s going to get like when he finds out we’re together.”

“He knows,” Max shrugged, pushing Lewis onto the bed and curling into his side, closing his eyes and tracing his fingers over his lion tattoo aimlessly.

“He does?”

“Hmm. Charles was on my flight the other day and he realised I was wearing your hoodie and apparently he told Seb and Seb cornered me and I’m not going to lie to _Sebastian Vettel_ and then he said that if I break your heart he’s going to smash my head in with one of his trophies, and honestly I admire his commitment.”

Lewis’ hand was going through Max’s hair and it stilled for a moment before Lewis laughed softly and leant down to kiss Max’s head.

“You’re something else, Max Verstappen.”

“I’m smelly is what I am,” Max corrected and opened his eyes to look at Lewis. “Mind if I shower quickly?”

“Yeah, go for it,” Lewis grinned. He titled Max’s head up and captured his lips in a soft kiss, smiling when he felt Max tighten his fingers on Lewis’ torso.

“You’ve got an evil grin on your face,” Max told him as they parted.

Lewis was still smiling when Max rolled over him and stood up. He watched Max pull his shirt up and over his head but rolled his eyes when Max simply threw it into a corner of the bedroom instead of putting it in the wash basket. 

“You’re so messy,” Lewis laughed softly. 

“And that’s why you refuse to come to my apartment.”

“I was literally in your apartment last month, stupid.”

“For what? 3 seconds before we were back in the car?”

“You were the one who forgot we was fetching your Mum at the airport, not me!”

“Yeah well,” Max shrugged. He started unbuttoning his jeans, slowly revealing the Tommy Hilfiger boxer shorts that Lewis had a hard time keeping his hands off. They also worked pretty well as a distraction technique and Max was pleased when he realised Lewis’ eyes were now following Max’s fingers toying with the waistband rather than giving him a ‘know it all’ look.

Lewis may be a six-time, soon to be seven-time, world champion with excellent reflexes and an incredible observational skill. 

However, he was still a man and he was very easily distracted by his young boyfriend and Max would forever exploit it. 

Pushing his boxers off, Max sauntered off in the direction of the shower, throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder at the way Lewis’ eyes were fixed on his arse.

His man was forever the most predictable person that Max knew. 

Normally, Lewis would join Max in the shower, pressing him into the tiles and probably fucking him there or jerking him off, however today, Max showered alone. Not that he cared. He wanted to be in and out of the shower as quick as possible and to get in bed. 

He could hear Lewis on his phone, probably ordering them some food now that he’d finally gotten home. 

_Home_

Monaco was still home

Holland was still home

But now England was too

So was LA

And every hotel room in between. 

Wherever Lewis was, it was home. 

The shower didn’t take long before Max was walking back through, towel low around his waist and his hair dripping droplets down his neck. 

“Feel better?” Lewis asked as Max pulled some boxers on and one of Lewis’ many, _many_ oversized Lewis x Tommy t-shirts. 

They were _comfy_ , okay?! Sue him. 

“Hmm. I hate how grimy I feel after the race. And why was it _so hot_ today? England’s not meant to get hot.”

“I know, baby,” Lewis laughed softly and kissed Max’s temple, “But sometimes we do, and climate change and all that.”

“It’s bullshit, I hate the heat.”

“And yet you live in Monaco.”

Max shrugged, “Yeah well, never said I liked it.”

“You are the actual worst,” Lewis groaned. 

“And yet you’re the one that continues to date me,” Max reminded him, a loving smirk on his face.

“Don’t know why I bother.”

Roscoe grumbled and climbed higher onto Max, licking at his chin in solidarity as Lewis started winding Max up.

“See?! Our son says you’re being mean to me!”

“He’s only defending you because you sneak him more treats and he knows that he’s got you whipped.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to say no to his face.” Max placed his hands around Roscoe’s jaw and nuzzled their noses together, scratching the backs of his ears as the dog flicked his tongue out to lick at Max’s chin. 

All the wins, all the success, all of it was amazing. 

It was made all the more amazing going through this with Lewis by his side. With Lewis laughing in his ear and Roscoe grumbling on his chest, Lewis’ arm around his shoulders and the expensive bedsheets tangled around his legs, it was perfect. 

Roscoe was perfect. 

Lewis was perfect. 

Winning a race that Lewis was meant to win was perfect. 

God Max was going to have fun exploiting that tomorrow morning when Lewis went downstairs and realised Max had replaced Lewis’ first place trophy from the week prior with his own from the 70th Anniversary race win. 

He was a racer, after all, it didn’t matter that his boyfriend was a world champion. 

He’d always find a reason to wind him up. 

And when Lewis started tickling his sides and kissing his jaw to make Max laugh loud enough to fill the entire house, it was everything Max could ever want and so much more. 

He’d never thought he’d get this. 

The boy, the dog, the relationship. 

It was so much more than anything Max had ever anticipated. He’d forever love keeping Lewis to himself, however a small part of his mind couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when they finally told people. 

There was something magical about getting to date Lewis Hamilton, and Max still couldn’t quite believe it was his reality. 

Especially when he realised Lewis was aimlessly tracing his finger over Max’s left hand.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, comments & feedback always greatly appreciated💙
> 
> Tumblr is at 3303andmore💙


End file.
